Headhunters
by Harold Trilby
Summary: Alternate universe fic. Humanity as client race of the Covenant in modern times. A young man in the Covenant military reflects on why he is there.
1. Why We're Here

Josiah Hunter sat beneath the shade of the Phantom and thought about why he was there, as the twin-suns of this alien world began to set. He thought about his family: his mother, father, sister, and both sets of grandparents. One year for each of them, those were the terms of service. If he could serve one year for each of them, their standing in the Covenant would improve dramatically. A good offer? He still had to decide that.

* * *

Josiah remembered standing in front of the recruiting Phantom not two months before. He remembered faces. There were the faces of other people nearby. Some had malice written upon them, looks that spoke one word. Traitor. Looks that would damn him for daring to work with these aliens, these conquerors. They suppressed their rage at this perceived sin, thankfully for Josiah.

There were also the faces of the two aliens sitting beside the Phantom, the ones called Sangheili. They had been curious, appraising even. Josiah had an idea of what questions might have been going through their heads even at that moment. 'Will he serve? Will he fight?'

"Yes, human?" one of them asked when Josiah walked up to them.

"Looking for Headhunters?" Josiah asked.

The Sangheili nodded. Josiah held out a folder. It held the papers for everyone in his family: his mother, father, sister, and both sets of grandparents. The Sangheili took it from him.

"Seven years," Josiah said.

The Sangheili opened it up and looked over the papers. Josiah simply stood there, his duffel bag over his shoulder, waiting for judgement on his request to be rendered.

The alien looked up at him. "Can you fight?"

"I can shoot straight."

"Show me."

The other Sangheili walked forward and handed Josiah a weapon. He looked it over for a moment. It was a carbine, one of the marksman weapons that the Covenant used.

"What do you want me to shoot?" Josiah asked.

The Sangheili pointed over to a pedestal set up about a hundred yards or so away. "Hit the target on that stand," he said.

Josiah turned towards the pedestal. A small metal ball sat on it, just about the same size of someone's head. A decent target. Josiah remembered shooting deer at greater distances than this. Then again, he used a more familiar gun for that.

But he put the carbine in a shooting position anyway. He needed to do this, get in the Covenant military as a Headhunter. He didn't see any other option. He looked through the scope, a slightly odd affair as with everything else related to the Covenant. He put the metal ball in the center of it and pulled the trigger. Two shots, and the ball rolled off the pedestal.

Josiah lowered the carbine and looked over at the two Sangheili. The first one turned to the second and they began to talk in their own language, an odd symphony of warbles and grunts. The human didn't understand any of it.

At last though, one of the Sangheili, the first one, reached over and picked up a small pack. He got up and walked over to Josiah, handing him the pack.

"What is your name, human?" he asked.

"Josiah Hunter."

"Then as of today, Josiah Hunter, you are in my service as a Headhunter."

* * *

And now, here he was. The Sangheili, Mra Ikanporamee, trained him and the three others who were accepted that day over the next two weeks, whipped them into a decent group of fighters. Of course, one of them hadn't really needed that. Josiah looked over at Raven, cleaning one of his knives. He'd been a decent fighter already. No, more than decent. Ungodly lethal.

* * *

Josiah had been sitting by the recruiting Phantom with the other two young men that had been picked that day, Nathan Baird and Donovan Cope. The evening hung red, and the two Elites were getting ready to pack everything up.

Then he came down the road.

He stood about six foot tall, like a walking Greek statue, two big knives in sheathes on his back. Josiah and the other two stared transfixed as he came towards the Phantom. The Sangheili merely looked over him as they had all the rest.

"Still need yer Headhunters?" this newcomer asked, a Southern drawl gracing his voice.

Mra nodded. "Can you use those knives you have?"

"Ah can."

A pause. "Have you ever used them?"

"Ah have."

"On what?"

"People."

Mra nodded. "You have that look in your eyes." He reached over for a pack. "How many years do you wish to serve?"

"Life."

Now the Sangheili really paused. "Life?" Mra asked, turning back to this newcomer.

"Ah deserve to die. Ah'll go with you and ah'll find the death ah deserve."

Mra got up and looked down at the newcomer. "You will not endanger those you fight with because of your death wish."

The newcomer shook his head. "Ah won't. They don't need tah die. Ah do. And ah will, 'ventually."

Mra looked down at him for a long while. Then, he turned back and picked up the pack again. "What is your name?"

"They called me Raven," the newcomer replied.

Mra handed Raven the pack. "Then, as of today, Raven, you are the last of my Headhunters."

* * *

"Joey?"

Josiah shook his head, clearing his mind of his reminiscing. He looked up. Donovan stood there, his plasma rifle in his hands and a tired expression in his eyes.

"Oh, hey."

"Room for me?"

Josiah looked around, then scooted over. "Eh, sure."

Donovan plopped down beside Josiah with a sigh. He rested his plasma rifle across his knees and pulled out a notebook from behind the chest piece of his armor.

"What's that?" Josiah asked, his curiosity piqued a little.

"Journal," Donovan replied, as he took out a pen and began to write in it. "Gotta get this all jotted down. I mean, it's why I'm here."

Josiah raised his eyebrow. "Whatcha mean?"

Donovan stopped writing and looked ahead. "What's the best way to immortality, Joey?"

"I wasn't aware there was a way to it at all."

Donovan chuckled. "There is, oh there is."

Josiah gave a little bemused smile. "Well, what is it?"

Donovan turned to him with his signature toothy grin. "Write a book. Write a controversial book. Doesn't matter if they worship or crucify you. They'll fucking remember you."

Josiah paused a moment and thought about this. "So, you're going to make everything we've done a book?"

Donovan gave a nod and pointed right at Josiah. "Bingo, Mr. Hunter. Doesn't matter if it turns out to be To Kill a Mockingbird or Mein Kampf. If it's about us Headhunters, it's going to get remembered. And they'll talk about it forever."

Josiah shook his head with a chuckle. "You're weird as all hell, Donny."

"Well, when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. You just wait and see."

"Just don't make me out to be a baby-eater, all right?"

Donovan really laughed now. "You hurt me, Joey. I gotta tell half the truth at least. And you're the most normal of us here. To say you're a baby-eater would be too much of a lie, even for a writer such as myself."

This made Josiah stop and think a moment. "I'm the most normal?"

Donovan thought a moment. "Yeah, I'd say so. Raven ain't normal, not by a long shot. Nathan's a nerd who wanted to go to space and see fucking aliens. I'm here because I want some shit to write about. You, you're here cause you're moving your family on up in the world. More normal than the rest of us."

"Eh, don't know about that," Josiah replied.

"But I do," Donovan said, pointing at Josiah again. "Fact, if I was to make all this shit up in my head, I'd have you be the main character. You're the relatable one here, all down to earth and shit, just joined up because you want a better life for the ones you care about. That's what heroes are made of."

Josiah simply shrugged and didn't reply to this. Donovan went back to writing, ignoring the way that what he had said was simply brushed aside. For the moment, Josiah ignored everything else. He thought of other things, other memories.

* * *

Josiah stood outside his house. The sun had not yet risen, everything was still shrouded in the half-light of early morning. His duffel bag hung on his back. It would be a two hour walk to the recruiting Phantom. He needed to leave now.

But, somehow, he couldn't leave just yet. His feet were rooted to the spot. He thought about the note that he had left in the kitchen, the one that the rest of the family would find when they went downstairs.

_To Everyone,_

_ I know you said that I ought not to go. But, I'm going. I've got all your papers. You'll get what you're due for my service. It's all I can do. I can't stay with you and contribute. I can't stay. I have to go._

Would they understand? Probably not. They'd never been ones for understanding. But, Josiah found that he no longer cared about that. They would benefit from this, so why should they care? Everyone would get what they wanted out of this. Even him, for once.

Josiah turned and began to walk down the road. He didn't need to look back now, didn't need to turn around. He knew his path. He knew what needed to happen. He would be a Headhunter.

* * *

A sigh escaped Josiah's lips now, as he sat beside the Phantom next to Donovan. Should he tell the writer the truth? Part of him wanted to. He didn't really want to be remembered like some kind of hero. It would be a lie, a bitter lie. But, in the end, he just kept quiet. He wasn't ready to tell Donovan. Not yet. There would come a time when the truth would get told. But it wasn't today.

* * *

_Author's Notes: __This is going to require a lot of explanation. So sit around, kiddies._

_This is an alternate universe Halo fan-fiction. The basic change in this universe is that the Covenant have found Earth in our modern times, about a few hundred years earlier than in the main timeline. Because certain individuals are not around, they don't come in to drive us to extinction. They simply press us into clienthood._

_Headhunters are young men who join the Covenant military under the guidance of an Elite. Some join of their own free will, and some are forced to join. This particular band, the one I have and will continue to focus upon, joined of their own free will._

_I plan to come back to this particular alternate universe, and these particular Headhunters, from time to time, since it affords me a bit more creativity. Expect to see shades of Generation Kill, The Things They Carried, and a bunch of Quentin Tarantino movies in any stories featuring them. If, for some reason, someone wants to set a story in this particular alternate universe, by all means do so. Just send me a message saying you're doing so. I'd like to read such a story. _

_P.S. Yes, Mra Ikanporamee was in my Trip story. But, guess what. Alternate universe! He can appear here too, as a commander instead of a subordinate. So there. xD_


	2. Fear

Josiah stood atop the grassy hill, looking down at the landscape where he and the other Headhunters had so recently fought. Sweat clung to him in great drops, and his breath came in short, eager gasps. He sank to his knees in the grass, unable to do anything but stare ahead. He stared at the corpses of the dead Kig-yar pirates, lying where they had died. He stared at the other Headhunters, his fellow squadmates included, and the Sangheili who led them. And he stared at the land, part of the planet Overt Piety, with its dry grass and the wind that softly blew. He took all of it in, drinking it up through his eyes, finding his way back to reality.

Centered at last, he took slower, deeper breaths now. It calmed him a great deal. Feeling returned to him, like it had back on Earth when he had come in from the chill on winter days. No physical chill haunted these yellow plains though. It existed solely in his mind. Now purged, he felt alive again.

"Are you hurt, Headhunter?"

Caught a bit by surprise, Josiah turned around sharply. Mra Ikanporamee stood there, arms folded, face set in that appraising look he had worn when the two had first met. This was good. If the Sangheili commander had looked the slightest bit upset, it would have meant a reprimand was in order. This look indicated that he was merely curious about Josiah's well being, part of his duty as the human's superior officer.

"I'm fine now," Josiah said, shaking his head and holding his carbine off to the side.

Mra looked over Josiah some more. "What troubled you?"

Josiah shook his head again and blinked. "Nothing. Nothing important, sir."

Mra narrowed his eyes a little. "I asked you a question, Headhunter. Answer me."

Intimidated by his commander, Josiah took a step back, swallowing and struggling to give an acceptable answer. "First time when they got close, sir," he replied.

Mra slowly nodded his head as he turned and looked out over the plain. Josiah waited for the Sangheili to say something, keeping quiet. He thought that his uncertainty might have caused his commander to think less of him. After all, the Sangheili had never before shown that he feared anything. None of them had. The human had begun to suspect that they were a race that simply did not know fear, the way they strode into battle tall and knew how they might think of him.

At last, though, Mra spoke. "It has passed?"

Josiah nodded. "Yes. It'll probably pass quicker next time."

"I doubt that." The Sangheili spoke with certainty, his words as hard and as unquestionable as stone.

"Sir?" Josiah asked, not sure of just what his commander had meant.

"Your race is not like mine," Mra said. "You do not handle fear in the same way."

Josiah waited a moment, to see if his commander had anything more to add on that front. When nothing became apparent, he spoke again. "How do you guys handle it?"

Mra turned and looked back at Josiah. "We are taught not to fear combat, to seek glory and honor in battle, to throw ourselves full into it as warriors bold." He paused, looking back out over the plain again. "But there are other things we fear."

"Like what?" Josiah asked. He felt a bit of fear at asking questions like this. The Sangheili might not respond to it very well. But he also felt compelled to inquire, to know, to understand. It was an innate part of him. Not as innate as it was with Desmond, the writer, but still a very important piece of the whole that was Josiah Hunter.

In any case, Mra answered. "Doctors. Dishonor. Leading others astray. These are the things we fear, Headhunter."

Josiah raised his eyebrow. "Doctors, sir?"

Mra nodded. "Loss of blood while not in battle is disgraceful, shameful. We fear our doctors will cut us to heal us, and thereby disgrace us."

The idea seemed absurd. But Josiah didn't dare voice that aloud. Instead, he simply nodded. "I see."

"Do you know why I tell you this?"

Josiah shook his head.

"Speak to answer me."

"No, sir. I don't know why you're telling me this."

Mra turned back to Josiah and fixed him with a look that was neither appraising nor upset. It seemed, rather, to be one of concern. "Because I would have you know that I am not so different than you, though you follow my orders. Ask for my aid in overcoming your fear, and you shall receive it. For though I may not know the fear that you know, I do know fear itself."

Josiah raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected Mra to make such an unusual offer. Heck, he hadn't even expected any of the non-humans he fought alongside to make it. They were Covenant. He was human.

"That's, kind of you, sir. But I think I'll be fine."

Mra slowly walked up to Josiah. The human didn't move, his unease at this rooting him to the spot. The Sangheili put a firm hand on his shoulder. It didn't hurt, but it did keep him in place.

"I implore you, do not spurn my charity if you think this shall bother you again. You may indeed grow used to it. Bit I feel that if you do, you may turn out like your fellow Headhunter, the one with the death wish, cold and hard to all other things. Such is the way your kind deals with things like this."

Josiah swallowed, struggling for a moment to form words. "You don't have to, sir," he stuttered. "I mean, you know..."

"I am afraid I do not, Headhunter."

A pause, one so long that Josiah feared the sun might set while he tried to think of what to say to the Sangheili. "I wouldn't want you to, to lower yourself, on my account."

Mra simply looked down at Josiah for a long moment. The human looked back, unable to do anything else, his mind turning over and over again upon just what his commander might say. He began to sweat again.

"You have more wit than an Unggoy, and more honor than a Kig-yar," Mra said at last. "If I would be lowering myself to help you, I would not notice it."

Praise. Josiah had not expected such a thing. Mra doled it out sparingly, almost never outside of combat or a sparring match. To hear it here, while the two stood alone after battle, it was new. Strange. But not altogether unpleasant.

"Well then," Josiah said, sighing, "I think I'll take you up on your offer, sir."

Mra nodded. "Meditation and prayer are the ways of my people when quieting our minds. When we return to the Natural Transcendence, I will lead you through the minor ones."

Josiah nodded. "Why me though?" he asked, the words spilling out of his mouth before he really had any time to catch himself.

Mra simply looked at Josiah for a moment longer, half appraising, half an emotion that the human really didn't recognize. "Because you have potential, Josiah Hunter," he said. "And I will not see it wasted."

He took his hand off of Josiah's shoulder and strode off down the hill. The human simply stood there, watching him go. The Phantoms were warming up. Soon they would be leaving. But, at that moment, Josiah's mind was on something else. One thing alone.

His name.

Mra had called him by his name.

* * *

_So, I decided to add another little vignette to this. I may end up adding more as time goes by, though it isn't something that I would really look forward to or put on any kind of schedule. College really puts a damper on some stuff, and time is one of them._

_ That being said, __a surrogate father figure appears in Mra. I suspect he's a father to all his subordinates, but Josiah receives special attention because he's the most normal. Like Desmond said in Why We're Here, everyone focuses on Josiah cause he's the least strangest of them all._

_ I use the proper Covenant names for the races instead of stuff like Elites or Jackals because those things were human nicknames. Different ones would have come into existence here, especially since humanity is a client race of the Covenant now. Split-lip will probably make a return at some point though. Some things must always be._


End file.
